


At The Airport

by Lauriana25



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Confessions, Crucial Moment in the Anime, Cute, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Love, M/M, One Shot, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, POV First Person, Reunions, Romance, Taken from the English dub please don't hate me, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, dialogue prompt, super cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 05:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17843480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauriana25/pseuds/Lauriana25
Summary: A rather special scene, told from Yuuri's point of view.





	At The Airport

**Author's Note:**

> I was noodling online and found a dialogue prompt that just _screamed_ Victuuri! And not just any old Victuuri, but a scene that made us all squeal ^_^
> 
> I recommend listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xcBtiil4Lq0) as you read...just to really get in the zone! :)
> 
> Enjoy!

They were looking, but I didn’t care. I ran to him anyway.

I didn’t take my eyes off him as I ran, pulling the thin mask down from over my mouth as I dragged more air into my lungs. My jacket felt too bulky, my backpack weighed a ton on my shoulders, but I kept going. I had to. I needed to.

He kept his eyes on me as he ran too on the other side of the glass wall, his long brown jacket flapping like wings behind him as he kept up with me. His hair looked mussed up, like he hadn’t styled it, or even brushed it. That wasn’t like him; it always took him at least forty-five minutes before he even set foot out of his room, hair coiffed until it shone like spun silver and bounced in a frothy wave over his left eye, skin buffed and moisturised until it looked smooth as silk and fresh as a daisy, lips soft and plump and the faintest shade of pink. He was a glittering god, after all. I always assumed that perfection was an art form.

And Victor Nikiforov was both the artist and the muse.

His cheeks began to flush with a faint rose colour as he ran, his lips trembling as he drew what looked like a shaky breath. Brilliant blue eyes shone with slim brows slightly turned down in a frown. Victor looked…worried? Relieved? Anxious? I couldn’t quite tell, but I did know that I had the same expression on my face.

I’d just spent the entire flight from Moscow thinking about…a lot of things. About qualifying for the GPF (just!). About Makkachin – was he okay? Was his operation a success? Or had he…no. No. That couldn’t happen. Victor couldn’t go through what I went through with Vicchan. He couldn’t!

About Victor. Actually, I spent most of the journey thinking about my coach. About how I wished he had been there with me when I performed my Free Skate instead of Yakov. How he had been the first person I’d hugged when I got my score. Maybe that would have stopped me from chasing after everyone for a hug like some kind of brainless zombie. I wasn’t even sure why I started hugging everyone. I mean, it was clear that a lot the guys didn’t want to be hugged (my head still hurt when I got on the plane after Yurio kicked me to the ground), so why did I do it? Maybe Victor’s touchy-feely approach was starting to rub off on me, that I couldn’t go one day without a hug. Without the feel of his long arms wrapped around my shoulders, an affectionate hand patting my back, his breath warm against my ear, his thick accent rolling my name over his tongue in a way that, at first, terrified and awed me, that had now become something I needed to hear every day.

I thought about how much my life had changed since he showed up at Yutopia. How much _I_ had changed. And not just physically (though it did feel good to be able to touch my toes again without sucking in my gut first), but…in every way. I felt stronger, braver, dare I say, happier. All because of him.

I thought about the GPF. I was going to the GPF, just like Victor had said I would. Maybe I would actually win gold, just like he said I could.

But then what? What was going to happen after Barcelona? Would Victor just go back to Russia, having proven something to everyone? That he could take a dime-a-dozen skater and turn them into a champion just like himself in just one season? Had all this been just a new challenge for him, a new way to surprise everyone? God knows it surprised me!

Would he go back to the ice? Maybe he could train at the Ice Castle with me…no. No, Victor’s too big of a star to be stuck in a small town like Hasetsu forever. He needed to be in a big city, with hundreds of people, with flashing lights and excitement around every corner. Not a sleepy seaside town where the only excitement came when he showed up, where all there was to look forward to was a dip in the onsen and my mum’s Katsudon. That was too boring, too mundane for someone like Victor.

And yet…

He was happy, wasn’t he? He seemed to be. He was always smiling at everyone – and not that tight-lipped smile that he flashed to the cameras. That big, heart-shaped beam that always made my knees go weak.

Wait. What?!

I blamed the weird thoughts on the jetlag. The thoughts that seemed to mess things up and turn them into something they weren’t. Flashes of Victor in the onsen, naked as the day he was born (not that I looked! Well, okay so I saw _it_ , but it wasn’t like I was _looking_!), morphed with random snaps of our training, of eating dinner together.

Of Beijing.

_“I wanted to surprise you more than you surprised me. This was the only thing I could think of.”_

Those words played on a goddamned loop until I was starting to think they were the only words I’d ever hear again. Not any of the advice he had given me when I kept flubbing my jumps. Not the kind words when I was having a bad day. Not the way he always said goodnight to me from his bedroom door.

I had tried to get some sleep on the plane, but what was the point? There was no way my brain was going to let me sleep. Not until I got some answers. But answers to which questions? What mattered more to me? Victor being my coach? Victor staying in Hasetsu? Victor returning to the ice?

As the pilot announced that we were beginning our descent, I decided that I needed to talk to him. Maybe I would know what to say when I saw him? I really hoped so, coz I was getting one hell of a headache.

Now, seeing him run to me just as I was running to him, all I could think about was just how much I’d missed him in Moscow. How weird it was that I had grown so used to him being at my side all the time that being apart from him for just one day had almost driven me insane (of course, this could have been the jetlag talking).

Makkachin was running too. Makkachin! He was okay! In fact, judging by his loud barking through the glass partition and the way he was bounding alongside Victor, it was if he hadn’t had a near-death experience. Maybe dogs don’t fear death like humans do. Lucky them!

But all I could focus on was Victor. Sorry Makkachin. It’s not that I didn’t care about the poodle – of course I did – but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. From his sapphire eyes. From his rosy cheeks. From his mouth. Just him.

We reached the doors at the same time. I almost burst through them rather than wait for the glass to slide open. I was fairly sure I nudged a few people out of the way, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t wait a second longer.

He stood and held his arms out. Yes. Yes! I threw my arms out and ran straight into the wall of his chest, his arms immediately enveloping me and pulling me even closer until it felt like the breath was being crushed out of my lungs. But I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around his back until I could clasp my hands together and squeeze him back. Yes. This is what I had missed in Moscow. I missed him so much! Surely he missed me too? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Cologne, coconut shampoo, Egyptian cotton and suede.

Victor.

His breath huffed next to my ear. Was he…was he breathing my smell too? Oh God, I should have showered before I left Moscow! But I overslept and nearly missed my flight, so I didn’t have a chance. So I must have smelled like stale cabin air, hotel air freshener and –

“Yuuri.” He whispered into my hair and, oh God, I’d missed hearing him say my name! “I’ve been thinking about what I should do going forward.”

_Going forward? Forward to what? To where? Am I there too? Do I want to be there too?_

“A-as your coach.” He seemed to add that part pretty quickly, giving my shoulders another squeeze. Oh. Right. Victor was my coach. He must have meant something about Barcelona. Maybe he watched my Free Skate online and wanted to change something before the Final.

I opened my eyes slowly, quickly becoming aware of the small crowd that seemed to gather around us. We must have looked a strange sight, two grown men embracing each other like we were…

What were we? Victor was my coach, but…surely we were friends too? We’d lived together for the best part of a year, had spent nearly every second of every day together – hell, we’d seen each other naked! I was pretty sure that Ciao-Ciao had never once seen me even topless, never mind naked! Surely that meant me and Victor were…more than just coach and skater?

But was that enough?

People were looking at us. But I didn’t care anymore. Not when I was in Victor’s arms. When he was in mine. I gripped the back of his coat as my heart hammered in my chest.

“Yeah. So have I.” my voice barely came out as a whisper, muffled against the soft suede. The moment of truth. Time for me to man up and ask the question that mattered the most to me. If only I could figure out what that question was!

_Don’t leave me, Victor._

I scrunched my eyes tight as tears threatened to fall, just for a second and took one last deep breath of him. No going back now. I pulled back and pushed Victor at the same time, my arms outstretched fully in front of me, Victor having to take a step back. He blinked owlishly at me, at the sudden movement. I surprised him. Again. I must have been getting good at that.

My hands gripped his shoulders as I looked him in the eyes. Those striking, dazzling blue eyes.

“Victor…will you…?”

_Stay with me. Never leave me. Take me with you, wherever it is that you decide to go._

“…be my coach? Until I retire?”

I felt so selfish in that moment. Maybe I had always been this selfish, but it really showed then. I wanted to keep Victor with me, for as long as possible. I didn’t want him to leave me, even if it would ruin his career. I didn’t want him to coach anyone else. I didn’t want him to skate anywhere else. I wanted Victor all to myself.

Victor didn’t say anything for what felt like the longest time. I couldn’t breathe. I’d gone too far. I’d asked too much of the Living Legend. He was going to laugh at me, going to say no, going to –

A tiny smile. A breathy laugh. A sparkle lighting up his eyes as he wrapped his hand gently around my left wrist and…brought my hand to his lips! Victor kissed my hand! No, not my hand, my finger. My…my ring finger? Why did he do that?

That was twice he had kissed me now. Once on the lips, now on my ring finger. Both times he had the softest smile on his lips and this deep, lingering look in his eyes. And all I could do was stand there with my mouth hanging open.

“That sounded like a marriage proposal.” He said warmly, fondly. Hopefully? No. I was more tired than I thought. He was teasing me, making light of my selfish request.

My cheeks felt warm and I couldn’t help but laugh too. Just a tiny bit. Now that I heard it the way he did, I supposed it did sound like I had just proposed to him. I had asked him to stay with me until I retire, but I hadn’t said _when_ I was going to retire. A year from now? Five? Longer?

Then I realised, with a sudden bolt of relief and joy, he hadn’t said no. He was going to stay! He was going to keep being my coach! I took a step forward and wrapped my arms around his waist again, leaning into his shoulder and breathing a sigh of relief as Victor hugged me to him again. It felt so right, just leaning into his chest, feeling it rise and fall in time with my own breathing, like we were in sync or something.

“In that case, I hope you never retire.”

A squeaky gasp pushed past my lips and tears sprung up in my eyes and clung to my lashes, my vision going blurry and wet as the tears smudged my glasses. I gripped the back of his jacket until I felt my fingers ache and tried to take a deep breath, but it came out wet and shaky, and it didn’t get any easier when I felt his arms wrap tighter around me, his shoulder trembling next to my cheek. Was he crying too? I almost didn’t want to see; I didn’t want to see my hero since I was a child cry, yet I wanted to see if the man I had come to know felt the same way as me.

“Let’s win gold together at the Grand Prix Final!” the words spilled from my lips as more tears fell from my lashes and I felt a puff of warm breath against my hair – Victor sighed! I could almost hear that brilliant smile form next to my cheek as he sighed again.

I wanted to win that gold medal. Now more than ever before than any other point in my life. Because it would mean so much more than just a lump of metal, more than a boost to an otherwise mundane career.

It would prove that I was worthy of Victor the whole time. That Victor was right to take the year off to coach me, to leave his whole life for me, to choose me over any other skater in the world.

It would prove my love to the world.

Love. I still wasn’t sure what that word meant, even though I had spent the last several months thinking about it, expressing it on the ice, talking about it with Victor as we practised.

But in that moment, wrapped in Victor’s arms in the middle of the airport, Makkachin jumping up at me for a hug and strangers staring at us with bewildered expressions on their faces, I thought I had an idea what love was to me.

Victor uncurled his arms from around my back and patted my shoulders affectionately, smiling fondly at me. I felt cold without his hugs.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” He beamed at me, stooping to grab hold of Makkachin’s collar before the giant ball of fluff knocked him over. “I had to bat my lashes at security to let me bring Makkachin in to meet you, and I don’t want to outstay our welcome.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at the image; Victor Nikiforov, the Living Legend and voted ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ five years in a row (I never told him that Minako and Yuuko voted for him several times, and I would take my vote to the grave!), flirting with some poor, hapless security guard to let his beloved poodle into the airport without a carrier or a leash.

‘ _And people wonder why Japanese people are seen as shy? Anyone would look like a shrinking violet next to him!_ ’

Before I realised it had happened, I had my suitcase in one hand, wheeling it behind me, and Victor’s fingers wrapped around my other, being led to the taxi rank just outside the airport entrance. A few people asked us for autographs and selfies (the fact that they asked _me,_ not just Victor, made me cringe. Victor just grinned harder and practically pushed me in their faces) but Victor seemed to be eager to get back to Yutopia just as much as Makkachin. He didn’t even wait for me to hail a taxi, waving his arm frantically and yelling “Takushī!” in a strained accent. It made me smile a little – at least he tried.

“Yutopia, O-one-gaish-imasu!” he turned to me with a grimace and a shrug as we climbed into the taxi.

“Getting better.” I said encouragingly. The beam he gave me made my stomach flip as he whispered something to Makkachin, the poodle settling on the floor between us with a wide yawn.

“I’ve been practising.” He said proudly, an arm draped over the headrest behind us, turning in his seat to face me with bright eyes and dazzling smile. “I had to do something while I was at the vet’s. And waiting for your plane to arrive.”

I gave Makkachin a quick glance. I couldn’t see any stitches or bandages. So it wasn’t as serious as Mari had made it sound on the phone. Still, I was glad Victor was able to be here with him.

“So what else have you been practising?” I asked, sleep starting to creep up and take hold of my eyelids. Now that I had seen Victor, hugged him, asked him to stay with me, heard that he was going to stay with me, I began to relax at last. I just needed to stay awake long enough to get back to my bedroom and then maybe sleep for a week.

Victor hummed thoughtfully, pressing a long finger to his lips, his eyebrows knitting together.

_‘God, you’re so cute when you do that.’_

“Let’s see; ichi U~okka!”

I chuckled. “I thought you already knew how to order drinks and food!”

“But my pronunciation was terrible! Yuuri, everyone always laughs at me when I order anything!”

I barked a laugh at his pouty lip wobbling as he rested his head on his knuckles. It was true; my parents thought he was cute for trying to speak our language, but Mari always made fun of his terrible accent whenever he wasn’t in the room.

“Come on, show me something more difficult than asking for a vodka.” I challenged him, smiling at the excited twinkle in his eyes.

_‘Why are you so good to look at? Like, all the time?’_

“Alright! Watashitachiha Baruserona ni ikimasu!” he practically screamed, his face splitting in two with his heart-shaped smile, grabbing me in a sudden tight hug that crushed the air out of my lungs. “Well, Yuuri – what did I just say?”

I felt my face grow warm again. “We…we’re going to Barcelona.”

“Hell yes, we are!” he cheered, hugging me again. “I told you I’d get you to the Grand Prix Final! You did it! And I’m so proud of you!”

My heart stopped. “Y-you are?”

He cupped my cheeks in his hands and, for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me again. His eyes flickered to my mouth for half a heartbeat before shooting back to my eyes, his smile breath-taking and perfect.

“Of course I am. I always have been proud to be your coach, Yuuri. Never forget that.”

“I…I won’t.” I said dumbly as he lowered his hands, settling back to his side of the seat.

‘ _I won’t. I’ll never forget this season. I’ll never forget that you changed my career, my life. I’ll never forget you, Victor.’_

Something wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me gently to one side, but I didn’t see what it was. My eyelids wouldn’t open. I felt myself slipping into a jetlagged coma, something warm and soft that smelled so good next to my cheek. So good I just had to snuggle into it with a heavy sigh.

“I practised something else.” I barely heard his voice, felt him pull my glasses off my face so I could press my cheek deeper into the soft pillow. Was it a pillow? Did pillows breathe softly and slowly? Did pillows hug you, stroke your hair from your eyes?

Did pillows kiss your forehead?

“Yuuri?” he whispered my name again, just about registering in my sleep-addled brain.

“Hmmm?”

“Do you want to hear what I’ve practised?”

“Mhmmm…”

Victor whispered something in my ear, but I didn’t hear it. At least, I thought I didn’t hear it. I couldn’t have heard him right. Because it sounded like he said…

_“Watashi wa, anata o aishiteimasu.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my co-conspirator and fellow squealer, [IncandescentAntelope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncandescentAntelope/pseuds/IncandescentAntelope), for beta-ing and sharing the love with me <3
> 
> Come and say hi! I'll always reply xxx


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